Ekaterina Sisfontes - a life of an artist
Bredäng Central
Guerilla art – Public art project
together with Irina Alter under DUO Contradiction umbrela
Bredäng Centrum, Stockholm, Sweden
2005
On Monday, July 28, the restaurant Tarantella in Bredäng Center reopened—six months after it was destroyed in a powerful explosion. On Saturday, August 23, 2025, a new public artwork will be inaugurated by the artist collective DUO Contradiction (www.duocontradiction.com). This time, it is created by Ukrainian artist Ira Alter and Swedish artist Ekaterina Sisfontes.
The new artwork, Bredäng Central, consists of seven vibrant planets that rise from the ground and float up toward the subway bridge—as if the bridge itself has transformed into an interplanetary station. Each planet is its own universe, an abstract reflection of our contemporary world and inner landscapes of thought.
Bredäng Central is more than just a piece of art. It is a new symbol of the area’s resilience, creativity, and belief in the future—a landmark that lifts Bredäng from the ground and into the collective cosmos.
The Project is sponsored by
The Fun Planet
Ekaterina Sisfotnes
Papier masché, cardboard
In reality, this planet should have been called the planet of meaningless joy. Its inhabitants are constantly in search of personal pleasures and outward signs of happiness. This tiny planet lacks any conditions for survival, but thanks to the constant cheerful bouncing of its residents, the planet continues to move freely through space.
The Observer Planet
Ekaterina Sisfotnes
Papier masché, cardboard
This is a planet whose eyes never blink. In its gaze, one can discern approval, condemnation, encouragement… Yet the uncertainty of its moral code makes it endlessly difficult for us to align with its expectations. Unsure of the ethical principles that guide the planet, we struggle to interpret the signs of its attention
The Flat Earth
Ekaterina Sisfotnes
Papier masché, cardboard
This is a one-sided planet, simplified to the horizon visible to its inhabitants. Living in constant fear of the unknown, they rid themselves of any trace of imagination. Through convulsive reasoning, they placed the planet’s continents at the center of a watery expanse, framed by icy masses. Unfortunately, their already limited engineering skills ran out at that point—and there was no room left for the sun in their world. So, they shoved it into the planet’s rear end, endowing it with the qualities of Hell.
The Entropy Planet
Ekaterina Sisfotnes
Papier masché, cardboard
This is a planet of mad solitude and excessive responsibility. Deprived of ambition and any purpose of existence, its inhabitants are constantly engaged in aimless activity—never questioning who needs it, or why.
The Straship
Ekaterina Sisfotnes
Papier masché, cardboard, aluminiumfolie
This is a planet of mad solitude and excessive responsibility. Deprived of ambition and any purpose of existence, its inhabitants are constantly engaged in aimless activity—never questioning who needs it, or why.
The Explosion planet
Ekaterina Sisfotnes
Papier masché, cardboard
Based on the theory that the world emerged from a great explosion, the author is compelled to admit that sometimes destruction inevitably sparks the birth of something new and beautiful. This work is dedicated to the restaurant Tarantella and its rebirth.
The Nibiru
Irina Alter
Papier masché, cardboard, aluminiumfolie
What do we truly know about it? An ancient cult of global conspiracies, a dark horse in the cosmos, or simply a blank spot on the astronomical map? A planet of hypotheses. A planet of fantasies.
According to wild, entirely unsubstantiated theories, the Anunnaki came to Earth from Nibiru—to create our civilization… or to enslave it. Both claims are as dubious as the very idea of Nibiru itself.
But let’s indulge in a bit of speculation: What if Nibiru really does exist—or once existed? What if the beings who became the prototypes of humanity looked exactly as we’ve been told?
And here’s the question that haunts me: What could have possibly driven the poor Anunnaki to leave their planet and venture to ours?
Perhaps Nibiru was simply inhospitable to life, just as it’s often depicted. And perhaps the Anunnaki weren’t evil conquerors at all, but rather… passionate pioneers.
Let’s imagine they did arrive on Earth and became the forebears of all humanity. We’ll set aside the idea of reptilians for now.
What truly interests me, though, is this: Where will we go when we’ve finally made our own planet uninhabitable?